Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nigeria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Delta 5 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Electric Prunes,
Derrick Morgan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
EPMD,
the Sonics,
The Move,
Suburban Knight,
Archie Shepp,
Colin Newman,
The Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Ohio Players,
F. McDonald,
Grauzone,
Lucky Dragons,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
June Days,
Max Romeo,
Gang Green,
Sandy B,
Nils Olav,
The Cowsills,
The Busters,
Minutemen,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
Goldenarms,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
The Stooges,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Magazine,
Sixth Finger,
Deepchord,
Marmalade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
Rekid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Niagra,
The Five Americans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
Drive Like Jehu,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-101,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doors,
The Cramps,
Chris & Cosey,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.